The Song Remains The Same
by Meredith01
Summary: It was only a dream, but can we change our destiny? M/S fic set post season 3.
1. Chapter 1

Title:- The Song Remains The Same

Rating:- PG-13...until further notice.

Pairing:- M/S

Disclaimer:- I own nothing and nobody related to WaT. I'd be a bit ashamed to right now actually.

* * *

The familiar click of the alarm clock mechanism heralded the beginning of yet another Monday morning as the changing of the large, blinking red figures ushered in another cold winters day.

_'I'm walking on sunshine, woooah! I'm walking on sunshine, woooah  
and don't it feel good!! Hey, alright now and don't it feel good!!'_

Samantha groaned irritably at the unbearably upbeat melody currently invading her dreams, trying to burrow further under the covers to hide from the unwelcome disruption as well as the icy chill that possessed her bedroom.

Clearly the DJ in question had for some reason seen fit to terrorize his audience with ironically whimsical and buoyant pop songs. They would undoubtedly be a perfect contrast to the mood of most poor people forced to awaken to their grating, nausea inducing melodies.

Without even opening her eyes she could already picture the white frosted dusting of ice that would be etched over her window and there would undoubtedly be at least a foot of fresh white snow littering the street outside just waiting to be waded through and slid across.

Thoughts of blissfully hot, seemingly long ago New York summer days brought a brief and mournful smile to her face until the pleasant interlude was rudely interrupted by yet another warning from the radio station DJ of the current weather conditions.

_'A reminder to listeners that the National Weather Service has issued an advisory storm warning for New York City with up to 14 inches of snow expected to fall on the city in the next 12 hours. A spokesman for the Port Authority has advised travellers to contact their airlines to check for flight disruptions with La Guardia, JFK and Newark all announcing cancellations.'_

"Ughh," Samantha reached out impulsively and hit the button on the top of her alarm clock in evident disgust, trying to psych herself up to remove herself from the warm cocoon of her bed covers and great the chilly morning with the obligatory shock of bare feet on cold floor boards.

There wasn't one redeeming feature Sam could find in the blustery, wintry day outside. Their current case was proving more than a challenge to all their powers of investigation; witnesses were amazingly unhelpful and delighted in taking the 5th amendment to the extreme, Mob affiliations seemed to be surfacing at every possible juncture, Van Doren and her team of bureau lawyers were breathing down their necks and Jack was walking around like the proverbial bear with a sore head.

Shuffling awkwardly to the bathroom she let out an anguished yell as she stubbed her toe firmly into the foot of her large wooden bed and a stream of suitable expletives left her lips.

No, all in all Sam held no high hopes of it being even close to becoming a good day, all signs currently predicted otherwise.

* * *

A few hours later she somehow found herself striding down the hallways of the FBI building, a wad of files hugged to her chest as she listened to Danny talk incessantly about his latest conquest who seemed to be an ER nurse called Jill. At least this week anyway.

"So I'm thinking...maybe ice-skating in central park...nice candle lit dinner...and then..." he waggled his eyebrows suggestively and cleared his throat, chuckling at Sam's withering stare.

"You can stop there, thanks!" she held up her hand defensively and turned to walk into the break room, finding herself smiling somewhat aimlessly as Martin looked up and caught her gaze, "I think I can fill in the rest of the details."

Danny shrugged and then suddenly elbowed her teasingly, "Aww, what's up hot-stuff? Your love life flagging lately huh?" he cajoled.

Sam cleared her throat uncomfortably and placed the files down onto the counter top as she busied herself with preparing a mug of coffee, glancing casually at Martin as she bit back a small smile, "My love life is just fine," she smiled crookedly at Danny and cocked her head, "thanks for your concern."

"Well, as the resident 'Love Doctor' if you will.." Danny began, smirking as Martin sighed in exaggerated impatience and stepped past him towards his desk.

"Save it Taylor," Martin groaned, shaking his head in exasperation as he felt sure further details of Danny's nocturnal exploits would somehow find their way into conversation.

Danny cast a cursory glance over his two colleagues and sat back in his chair, hands knotted firmly behind his head, "You two are just jealous of my natural prowess...wouldn't kill you two to you know...actually go on a date sometime," he said incredulously. It sometimes amazed him how two such attractive people could be so obviously and unhappily single.

Danny paused abruptly as he saw their expressions and cleared his throat, trying desperately to back pedal as he thought about the ill-fated relationship the two had previously shared some months before.

"I didn't mean with each other. I...I just meant dates. Like...dating in general...with other people."

Martin sighed, exchanging amused smiles with Sam who appeared to be visibly shuddering as she sat at her desk and stared at her computer screen, rubbing her hands together in a feeble attempt to warm up. For some unfathomable reason the offices seemed colder than usual today and her body felt heavy and sluggish and a little disorientated.

Samantha glanced at the photograph of their missing person, blinking rapidly as she realised she could only remember the woman's first name, "Victoria..." she paused, rubbing her head as she tried to remember the name she knew she must already know, "Victoria..."

"Viv just called," Martin stated, placing the phone back on it's cradle and standing up to retrieve a file from Sam's desk, "She's stuck in a traffic. Sounds like it was a pretty bad accident up there."

"Yet more news to make Papa Bear happy," Danny sighed, casting a cautious glance at Jack's office as their boss appeared to be caught up in an apparently intense phone conversation .

Martin bent to pick up the pile of papers from Sam's desk, sifting through them until he came to the document he needed and then promptly returned the pile to their previous home. He watched Sam rub her eyelids wearily and placed his hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze as she looked up to shoot him a brief smile of acknowledgement.

"You ok?" he lowered his voice and watched Jack stalk across the office toward Danny's desk, trying not to let their boss overhear their conversation.

"Yeah," Sam nodded, a little mystified as to the cause for her discomfort. She couldn't really pinpoint how she felt, just felt strange. Things, people, places, conversation – even the lighting in the office – it all seemed wrong somehow.

"You sure?" Martin cocked an eyebrow, his hand still lingering on her shoulder.

"I'm fine," she nodded, smiling to allay his fears and briefly placing her hand over his and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Hey Marty," Danny called over, standing up and hastily grabbing a deep red scarf from the back of his chair, "you wanna go see a man about a dog?"

"You mean a man about a dog? or a homicidal mob boss about his mistress?" Martin smirked.

Danny shrugged and threw the scarf around his neck with a grin, "Eh...semantics!

Martin sighed wearily and walked over to his desk, watched closely by Samantha as he and Danny stalked off hurriedly toward the elevators.

Samantha returned to her previous task, or at least she thought she had, but what seemed to be mere minutes later Jack once again stepped out of his office, the darkened rooms lit now by desk lamps as the early afternoon sky clouded over.

Sam stared in surprise at the darkened room, feeling more than a little disorientated by the apparent time lapse. Yet the look on her boss's face drew her instantly from her thoughts as he perched precariously on the corner of her desk and stared down at his hands. Jack Malone was seldom lost for words, it was never a good sign to find him rendered speechless.

"Something wrong Jack?" she stared up hesitantly into his brown eyes, immediately her heart began pounding in her chest as she easily read the expression on his face.

Jack licked his thin lips nervously and released a shaky breath, "There was an accident..."

Sam swallowed hard, hearing her heartbeat echoing loudly in her eardrums, "Jack?" she wanted to almost shake him, angered by his lethargic delivery of the news, "What happened? Are they ok?"

"Sam..." Jack appeared to be selecting his words carefully, his large hand landing comfortingly on her shoulder, "Martin is uhm...He's..."

Sam pulled away from him suddenly, refusing to let him end that sentence. Her hand gripped the edge of her desk as she stared wide eyed at the wooden surface trying desperately to process what he was trying to tell her.

A loud crash suddenly made her jump in surprise, a sound she presumed came from the street below.

As the clatter reverberated in her ears her head whipped around to the source of the noise and in that second everything around her faded to black.

* * *

Samantha opened her eyes and blinked rapidly, surprised to find herself staring at her bedroom wall as she sat up suddenly and ran her fingers through her long blonde hair.

Her chest practically ached with the intensity of her heartbeat and she found herself momentarily paralysed in a combination of fear and confusion as she tried to regulate her breathing and clear her muddied thoughts.

She quickly scanned the night stand, staring fearfully at the digital display yet at the same time willing it to change. The seconds ticked by slowly until the display began to flash angrily and the radio suddenly greeted the new morning with the guitar riff of an old 1980's power ballad.

No irritating pop song, no storm warning.

When she actually thought about it many other details of her dream made no sense to her; they had no new case, Jack had been in an uncharacteristically good mood for the past few weeks, Danny was dating a social worker called Amy and as for her and Martin, they were purely on what she considered to be friendly terms. They had been getting closer lately, something of which Samantha was immensely grateful for, yet the apparent air of intimacy that had existed between them in her dream was sadly a thing of the past.

Sam laughed self-consciously, laying back down against the pillows as she rubbed her face wearily and chided her irrational fears.

"Just a dream," she said out loud, shaking her head as she narrowed her eyes and thought about the absurdity of her subconscious.

The rain continued to pound against the window pane outside and Samantha found its usually irritating presence somewhat comforting as opposed to the snow she had been fearful of finding as she had awoken.

Stepping out of bed, she turned off the radio and headed toward the shower, determined not to give another moment's thought to her nightmare.

It was only a dream.


	2. Chapter 2

Samantha glared in annoyance at the flashing orange light emanating from the copy machine and continued stabbing her finger repeatedly at the array of buttons in futile hopes of persuading it back to life.

Muttering irritably under her breath she slammed her palm down hard against the hulking machine, opening and closing the paper drawer in a last ditch effort to persuade it to work.

Lost in her own private battle with the office facilities, she didn't notice Martin standing in the doorway, a thoroughly amused and also bemused expression on his face as he watched the altercation.

"Need a hand?" he offered, chuckling as she released a long stream of expletives and slammed her hand down repeatedly onto the top of the copier.

Sam sighed defeatedly and held up her hands at his offer of assistance, "Be my guest."

Martin grinned and placed the file he had been carrying down onto the desk nearby before giving the copier a cursory glance and then proceeding to move it slightly from the wall.

Samantha watched him curiously, folding her arms across her chest as she found her eyes wandering absently over his body. The warm, heady scent of his aftershave still hung enticingly in the air around her and she felt her teeth graze her bottom lip as she studied his features intently. He'd never know how grateful she had been to see him that morning, the events of her dream still achingly fresh in her mind. Then again, there were several things he didn't know, things she should have told him long ago; but as always. her fear left her pathetically silent.

A small smile appeared on his face as he swept his hand down the side of the copier and he stood up purposefully and flashed her a knowing grin, "You've just..." he struck the side of his foot against the copier and chuckled triumphantly as several pieces of paper spewed from it's jaws, "got to know where to kick it!"

Samantha rolled her eyes and laughed at his technical explanation, "You sure you weren't the 'copy guy' in Seattle?!"

Martin shrugged, his blue eyes all but twinkling as he mirrored her wide smile, "I'm a guy of many talents, what can I say?!"

"Yeah...I know," Sam replied cheekily, raising an eyebrow as she saw a discrete blush rise up his cheeks.

Martin went to reply, pausing momentarily as he glanced down at the ground and smiled, unsure as to his response.

Sam cleared her throat and began to busy herself with copying the papers she had retrieved from the machine, conscious all the while of his eyes on her face.

He reached around her somewhat awkwardly and picked up his notes. Her body tensed as his arm drifted around her and he heard the sound of her breath drift over her lips in a short, sharp gasp.

The room suddenly felt small and claustrophobic and the tension hung tentatively in the air; Sam watched his fingers gripping the edges of the file tightly, slowing allowing her gaze to drift upward to his face where she found him staring at her steadily.

She knew he must've seen the fear and apprehension in her eyes because he suddenly smiled at her reassuringly and nodded down toward the copier.

"You go easy on that thing Spade, it's probably older than both of us."

Sam glanced down at the admittedly antiquated looking piece of office machinery and smiled crookedly, "Well, now I know how to fix it..."

"I didn't fix it, I just gently persuaded it," Martin countered, intending to leave the room but finding his feet unwilling to move from the spot.

Samantha smiled and turned to face him, about to formulate a suitable reply when Danny suddenly appeared in the doorway.

"The big boss man needs us," he announced, hiding a knowing smile as he watched them turn sharply to look in his direction.

"Right, yeah," Sam nodded, smiling tightly at Martin as she tried to avoid Danny's gleeful smirk.

"I guess duty calls," Martin agreed, sighing to himself as he realised that he was once again being reeled in and found himself powerless to stop it. Despite swearing to himself some months before that he would never find himself in this situation again with Samantha, he realised as he watched her walk out ahead of him that for better or for worse, he was still in love with Samantha Spade.

* * *

"So what was all that about in there?" Danny grinned, elbowing Sam playfully as she walked beside him toward the bullpen.

"All what?" she feigned ignorance, frowning irritably to try and dissuade him from further questions.

"Oh please," Danny guffawed, glancing back at Martin to make sure he couldn't hear the conversation, "you and Marty?"

"There's nothing going on, we were just talking."

"Talking? Is that what you kids are calling it these days?" Danny teased, watching her cheeks colour significantly as he continued his line of questioning.

"Danny, just drop it, ok?!" Sam threw down the pile of fresh copies onto her desk as they passed it, adamant this was not a topic she would be broaching with anybody, least of all Danny.

"Fine," Danny held up his hands defensively, biting back an evil smile as he added off handedly, "Fine! I'm just saying that.."

"Well, don't!" Sam snapped, taking a seat around the conference table and trying to ignore the questioning looks both Viv and Jack sent in her direction.

Samantha watched Martin take a seat across from her and then turned her attention to the photograph of their new MP that Jack was now attaching to the white board.

"Alright, this is Victoria DiMarco," Jack stated with a sigh, sliding a mass of papers across the table to distribute amongst the team. The rest of his words were lost on Samantha as she stared silently at the photograph of the eerily familiar woman.

The woman from her dream.

* * *

Danny tapped his fingertips boredly on the interior of the car door, leaning languidly against the plush head rest as he watched the seemingly never ending lane of traffic before them.

He cast a sideways glance at Samantha and watched her drumming her fingernails repeatedly on the edges of the steering wheel, her eyes listlessly shifting from the rear view mirror to the horizon and back again.

"Would you stop that?" she turned her head sharply and glared at his fingers as they drummed against the door.

He inhaled slowly and folded his arms across his chest, listening to her sigh irritably as she kept glancing up at the sky and furrowing her brow.

Deciding to provide himself with some other form of distraction, he began searching through the radio stations, stopping momentarily on a song before quickly thumbing through the stations with a non-stop blur of merged melodies and beats. He felt Sam's eyes boring into the back of his head and turned slowly to see her glaring at him in obvious annoyance.

"What's with you today?" he demanded, laughing in bemusement at her snappish and short tempered demeanour. Ever since their team meeting that morning she had been in an undeniably horrendous mood, with even Jack not escaping her wrath.

"Nothing's with me," she retorted, shifting in her seat and glancing down the long queue of cars before them.

Danny looked at her witheringly and once again began surfing through the radio stations, pausing abruptly as she slammed her hand down on the horn and opened her window to glance out at the traffic.

"Did you forget to take your Midol today Agent Spade?" he chuckled, instantly regretting his comment as she affixed him with an icy glare.

Danny slumped back in his seat and glanced around languidly at the cars lined up on either side of them. Judging from the sound of approaching ambulance sirens and fire trucks, they wouldn't be moving any time soon.

Samantha leant her head in her hand and stared up at the wintry sky, eyeing the clouds analytically as she scanned the horizon and then turned to her then silent partner.

"You think it'll snow?" she asked quietly, following the path of a passing ambulance as it darted past them, sirens blaring and lights flashing.

Danny narrowed his eyes and glanced up at the sky, clearly confused by her sudden topic of conversation.

She glanced over at him expectantly, "Danny?"

Danny widened his eyes and folded his arms tighter across his chest as he explained his silence, "Hey, at this point I'm a little afraid of you."

"Danny..." she sighed, the strangely anxious tone of her voice provoked him to reply.

"No 'Malibu Barbie' I don't think it's gonna snow," he eyed her suspiciously, "ok?"

"Ok," she nodded, apparently lost in her own thoughts as she released yet another weary sigh and stared out of the windows at the darkening sky.

* * *

Later that evening Samantha found herself still at her desk long after all her colleagues had gone home for the evening. Only Jack's office remained illuminated, clearly he could find no other place to be or person to be with and was still seemingly engrossed in the paperwork before him.

For the past few hours she had been trying to convince herself of the irrational nature of her fears, trying to dispel the awful anxiety she could feel building up in her chest. Here she was, a grown woman...an FBI Agent...and she was afraid to go home, afraid to fall asleep, afraid of her dreams.

She turned her wrist and glanced at her watch, debating whether to leave or remain in the office until it became absolutely vital to leave or risk being evicted by the evening cleaning staff.

She grabbed her coat and purse and walked gingerly toward the elevators past Jack's open office door. She didn't mean to linger in the doorway yet found herself rooted to the spot.

"Jack?"

He glanced up at her expectantly and pushed his dark rimmed glasses down his nose, "Yeah?"

She instantly felt foolish, there was no possible way of making her question sound even remotely sane. "I...I uhm..."

He sat up straighter in his chair and looked at her closely, watching as she obviously struggled to formulate a sentence.

"Yeah?" he raised an eyebrow and twisted his pen absently between his fingers as she stared down at her hands.

"Do you think that..." she paused and shook her head, "I mean, have you ever..."

Jack narrowed his eyes and let the pen fall onto the papers below, he was about to speak when she suddenly shook her head and continued with a self-conscious laugh.

"Ya know...it's fine, I'm sorry," she shook her head, "thanks Jack."

With that she turned on her heel and headed toward the elevators leaving a confused Jack to merely watch her retreating form as she strode off down the dimly lit hall.

"No problem," he said quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to figure out what had just transpired.

He pulled his glasses off with an exaggerated sigh and sat back in his seat, stretching his aching body as he looked at the clock on his office wall and rubbed the back of his neck.

Deciding he too should head home, he stood from his chair and gathered his coat from the stand and with a final flick of his wrist, plunged the offices into darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

Samantha awoke with a start, her heart pounding furiously in her eardrums as she sat up and gripped the bed covers to her chest.

After several hours tossing and turning the night before she had finally slipped into an exhausted sleep, now some 5 hours later she had awoken to exactly the same dream as the previous night had brought.

She reached out a trembling arm and hit the button on the alarm before it had a chance to activate, the last thing she felt like doing was listening to inane pop music or the insignificant banter of the breakfast show DJ.

Sam leant her head in her hands and tried to analyse her current predicament; the notion of precognitive dreams, psychics or anything remotely connected to the 'mystic' realm had never held the slightest bit of interest for her in the past. Samantha considered herself a realist, entirely grounded in reality no matter how dark or depressing that reality might be. If you could see it, it was real. Anything else was mere conjecture, fraud or superstition and she found absolutely no place for any of that in her life.

She had tried to remind herself of this repeatedly over the last day or so, yet something about the dream made her incredibly uncomfortable.

She had tried to shrug off the identity of their missing person as merely a coincidence, strange things did happen occasionally and that was perhaps just one of those things.

But why the same dream was now haunting her subconscious every night she had no idea.

Sam glanced tiredly at the night stand as the ringing of her cell phone startled her from her thoughts. Jack's name flashed across the screen as the phone continued it's dance across the wooden surface, narrowly avoiding falling onto the floor before she eventually picked it up and flipped it open.

"Spade."

"Hey Sam," Jack's characteristically gruff tone greeted her, "we found Aaron Jennings out in Brooklyn," he referred to a possible witness and long time employee of their leading suspect.

"Uh...ok, well that...that's good," Sam pinched the bridge of her nose and ran her hand tiredly over her face.

Jack's tone betrayed the wry smile clearly on his face as he laughed, "Not entirely. We found him in a dumpster behind a fast food joint. He's not gonna be talking to us or anyone else any time soon."

"Oh, right," Sam swung her legs over the edge of the bed and dragged her toes distractedly across the dark wooden floorboards as she awaited his instructions.

"I need you to go out there with Martin and see what you can dig up. He'll meet you out there in an hour."

Sam swallowed hard at the mention of Martin's name and stood up from the edge of the mattress, repeating the address Jack gave her over and over in her head as she paced in front of the window.

"Ok, I'll meet him out there. Was there anything else?"

Jack paused and cleared his throat uncomfortably, "Is everything ok? With you I mean. Nothing's...wrong?"

"No Jack, I'm fine," Sam forced a smile and took a deep breath,.

"You're sure about that? Because if you need to talk about anything, you know you can come to me."

"I just haven't been sleeping so good lately that's all," well, it was a half-truth at least - not technically a lie.

"Ok," he accepted her explanation somewhat hesitantly.

"Look Jack, I gotta go," she opened the blinds in her bedroom and stared out at the crisp, sunny day outside, glad at least for the presence of sunshine.

Finally ending the call Sam tossed her phone onto the centre of her unmade bed and padded distractedly into the shower.

There had to be a rational explanation for her dream and before she let herself get panicked any further by it's foreboding message, she decided to let the day just play out and see what happened. Her mother always told her she had a habit of meeting trouble halfway and for once Sam intended to follow her advice and not anticipate problems before they arose.

The sky was blue and the sun was shining and reality awaited out in Brooklyn.

* * *

The crime scene was a flurry of activity as Samantha closed the car door with a definite slam and surveyed the mass of bodies hurrying here and there.

A few police officers scurried about with barriers and plastic tape, directed by the guy Samantha presumed was a detective who was engaged in a hushed conversation with someone who looked suspiciously like a minion from the DA's office.

Sam held her hand up against the glaring sunshine and scanned the horizon looking for a familiar face.

A tall dark haired figure raised a hand in greeting to her and she strode purposefully across the street toward Martin who appeared to be just ending a conversation with another detective.

"Hey," Sam smiled apologetically as she reached his side, "sorry, I got caught in traffic."

"It's ok," he grinned good naturedly and handed her a steaming cup of coffee from the cardboard tray in his hand, "I thought you could probably use this."

"Thanks," she flashed him a grateful smile and took the pleasantly warm beverage between her hands and took a large sip as he watched her closely.

"Late night?" he asked, trying to subtlety ask her the reason behind the dark circles under her eyes and her lapse in punctuality, "or an early morning?"

He watched her eyes closely and secretly prayed for there not to be another guy involved. He knew he wasn't ready to let her go and the idea of another man in her life – in her bed- made him feel sick to the stomach.

"Yeah, right," Sam guffawed, looking up just in time to catch the relieved expression briefly flash across his face. It brought a smile to her face to imagine he might be even remotely jealous yet the realisation that he might still have residual feelings for her brought a familiar pang of fear. She wasn't sure if she could do this again, risk her own feelings, risk being hurt...risk hurting him again. And she knew she had.

If she tried and failed once again she doubted either of them would be able to salvage even their friendship this time.

He squinted down at her as she took another large gulp of coffee, the sunlight making his eyes appear almost crystalline as they held her in an unwavering stare.

"Where you waiting long?" she had suddenly become intensely uncomfortable and had said the first thing that had come to mind.

Martin sighed and the traces of a smile twitched at his lips as he stared down into his own half empty coffee cup, "I'm a patient guy," he gestured over toward the crime scene and they began to cross the police barriers, holding up their ID badges to the uniformed cops who then allowed them to pass.

"Right," Samantha grinned, appreciating the teasing undertones of their conversation.

Martin took a sip of his now luke warm coffee and grimaced, "Besides, you're usually worth the wait...when you eventually show up."

Sam smiled crookedly and rolled her eyes at his comment. It had been a running joke between them when they had been dating that aside from during her working life, Samantha would almost always be running late.

"You done with that?" he gestured down to the coffee cup in her hands knowing as soon as he he had tasted it that the coffee was not up to spade standards.

Sam swallowed another sip and winced at the bitter taste, "Yeah," she stated definitely, pausing to drop the cup into the garbage can behind them.

"It was half full," he dropped his own empty cup down into the trash can and watched the rivulets of dark liquid flowing out of the cup she had deposited in there mere seconds ago.

Samantha sighed at his mock indignation and bit back a smirk as she replied goadingly, "Half _empty_."

"Half full," he countered, shaking his head and sighing at her cocked eyebrow, "although it figures you'd be a glass half empty kind of girl."

"Let's get this over with shall we?" Sam ignored his teasing and winced as she glanced over at the coroner's van now awaiting the loading of the body on the guerney next to it.

Martin swallowed distastefully and nodded, grabbing a pair of latex gloves from his pocket as they walked over to the sheet covered body of their would be witness.

"And when we get back to the city I'll buy us a real coffee," she threw in, arching her eyebrow as she emphasized the word real.

Martin chuckled wryly, making a mental note to warn his digestive tract in advance.

Samantha cleared her throat as she prepared to pull back the sheet currently covering the body of Aaron Jennings, realising that despite the sinister turn their case had taken, all thoughts of her dream were now temporarily removed from her mind.

It was actually shaping up to being a pretty good day.

* * *

A few hours later after leaving the crime scene and purchasing what Sam insisted was 'real' coffee, the unit were once again assembled in the bullpen.

"What is it Danny?" Viv asked indulgently, noticing that Danny had been staring at the phone for the last few minutes without so much as blinking.

Danny sat staring pensively at the phone, his chin propped on his fingers as he appeared lost in thought.

Jack chuckled and coughed in amusement, "Romeo here got dumped."

"Ouch," Viv laughed, sitting back down at her desk and propping the phone handset on her shoulder as she read the phone number from her computer screen and quickly punched it into the telephone keypad.

"I was not dumped, ok?!" Danny said indignantly, ignoring the sniggering of all his colleagues as he eyed them all individually, "Amy and I just came to the mutual agreement that it wasn't working out."

"She just came to that conclusion before you did," Jack smirked, not lifting his eyes from the reports before him as he heard the others laughing under their breaths.

"Funny, you're a funny guy," Danny rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his chest as he considered his dating options, "but...this does now give me the opportunity to ask out that cute little nurse we met last week. You remember her Marty?" he winked teasingly.

"Moving on to another victim so soon?" Martin quipped, fully remembering the staring and leering that had occurred when they had been questioning an MP a few weeks before and the nurse had arrived to change his dressings.

"What are you talking about man, you know I'm your dating yoda," Danny said self assuredly, waggling his eyebrows gleefully at Viv who was trying her best not to laugh as she listened in on their conversation and attempted to simultaneously continue her telephone conversation.

Martin stood up and began writing on the white board, laughing ans shaking his head at Danny' comment, "You are not my dating _yoda_."

Samantha had remained uncharacteristically quiet, something about the details of Danny's new love interest had triggered something in her memory and all at once a churning nausea had overcome her.

Martin sat back down at his desk and watched Samantha closely as she stared wide eyed at Danny and began fiddling nervously with the chain around her neck, "A nurse? She's a nurse?"

"Uh-huh," Danny nodded, grinning aimlessly at the mere thought of his new would-be paramour.

Sam swallowed hard and gripped the pen she was holding tighter between her fingers, "Jill."

Danny did a double take and glanced over at her questioningly, "Impressive. You got this weeks winning Lotto numbers in there too?" he tapped his head for effect and pointed at her.

Jack and Martin watched in confusion as Samantha wordlessly stood up and walked hurriedly out of the office, her face almost ashen.

"I just have to..." she called behind her quietly, waving her hand behind her dismissively to stop anybody from following her.

Danny watched her retreating form with interest; clearly something was very wrong and judging from the bemused faces of those around him he was sure he wasn't alone in having absolutely no idea what in the world was going on.


	4. Chapter 4

Martin waited for a few minutes to pass before he excused himself and went off in search of Samantha. He knew her well enough to know where she would escape to when she wanted a few minutes alone and he quickly found her out on the balcony where so many seemingly pivotal conversations had taken place between them in the past.

Samantha stood against the railings, her arms folded across the top of the cold metal as she peered out across the city apparently lost in thought and she didn't bother to turn at the sound of the door closing behind Martin.

He stood wordlessly at her side and leant on the rail beside her as he stared out at the dull grey skies and tried to think up an opening line. Samantha stole a glance up at him and willed the fresh tears she felt surfacing behind her eyes to not betray her as she tried to gather her thoughts.

"I'm fine," she suddenly stated, anticipating his question and trying to reassure him with a weak smile that she was ok.

Martin nodded as he surveyed her face and sighed as he reached out and traced his fingertip along her cheek where tears had stained her skin, "Ok."

There just wasn't a point in pushing Samantha to talk about her problems, he had learnt that the hard way. And despite how overwhelming the urge might be to pull her into his arms and comfort her, he knew Samantha Spade was definitely not the rescuing type.

"Go inside Martin, it's cold out here," she sighed, turning her head away to stare across at the office block in front of her. She kept her gaze fixed upon the figures walking past the vast windows and tried to ignore the intense gaze she knew he had affixed her with.

Martin watched her jaw set with tension and he was surprised to see traces of fear flash across her face as she turned to him once again with wide eyes.

"Martin, I'm fine...really. Just go inside, please."

"I will," he shrugged nonchalantly, catching the pleading hint of desperation in her voice, "I just wanted to get some air," he lied unconvincingly.

"Nice try Fitzgerald," she smiled despite her growing misery and rolled her eyes at his unwavering stare.

Martin chuckled and held up his hands defensively, "Alright, so I came to check up on you," he rubbed his hands together for effect and visibly shuddered as the icy winds blew through the fabric of his cotton shirt, "so is there any chance you want to tell me about it before we both catch pneumonia?"

He sighed as he saw his attempt at humour had failed, Samantha remained staring stoically at the ground below.

Martin watched her hair blow across her cheek and saw her fingers trembling as she recaptured a blonde tendril behind her ear.

"I'm a good listener," he said gently, catching her gaze as she looked up at him momentarily.

The tenderness in his eyes caught her off guard and as she stared back up at him and replied almost sadly, "I'm not such a good talker."

She turned back to stare at the skyline as he merely nodded silently and dug his hands in his pockets.

Martin peered up at the darkening sky and winced at the cold blast of air that greeted him, "It's getting colder... looks like it might snow."

"Yeah, I know," Samantha stared up at the clouds and nodded, her hand suddenly fluttering to her face as she felt tears welling in her eyes.

Martin looked at her askance, thoroughly confused by her reaction to what he had imagined would be a thoroughly innocuous statement.

Sam inhaled slowly and tried to suppress the ridiculous urge to burst into tears, she could feel him staring at her in confusion and despite how absurd she knew she would sound, she found the words hesitantly forming on her lips.

"Did you... did you ever have a dream?" she felt her cheeks redden in embarrassment.

Martin paused and considered the question with obvious confusion, "A dream? Like...a nightmare?"

"No," she shook her head and then frowned as she tried to explain herself, "yeah, I guess. But a dream you have every night. Always the same thing and then when you wake up, it's...it's like you know things. You know things that are going to happen."

She avoided his gaze and stared down at her feet as she folded her arms tightly across her chest and awaited his response.

"You're having nightmares?" Martin tried to simplify the issue, thoroughly mystified at to why Samantha would be so upset about something as obscure as a nightmare.

"It's not quite that simple Martin," Sam shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose tiredly.

"Ok, so...what's the dream about?"

Sam shook her head firmly, "I can't tell you."

Martin cleared his throat uncomfortably and sighed, "Is it about Jack?"

Sam looked up quickly and frowned at his question, "No. It's not about Jack."

Martin nodded and brushed his hand lightly against the top of her arm, "You can't tell me?"

Sam shook her head and wiped clumsily at the tears now streaming down her face, "No, I can't."

"Sam," he sighed wretchedly and opened his arms uncertainly in offering to her.

Samantha shuffled slowly toward him and allowed him to wrap her in a comforting embrace as her tears stained the fabric of his white shirt.

"It's just a dream Sam," he soothed, rubbing her back placatingly, "it's just your subconscious playing tricks on you. Whatever it is, it doesn't mean anything."

"Things have happened," she shook her head miserably, "things have happened that I saw in my dreams."

Martin had no idea how to reassure her over such an outlandish problem. The Samantha he knew would never have let something so insignificant as a dream effect her so deeply. Clearly whatever it was she saw in her dreams had troubled her deeply, yet as always she seemed reluctant to talk about him.

"Like what?" he questioned, hoping to be able to dismiss her fears with rational explanations.

Sam shrugged and pulled away from his embrace, the fear in her heart became almost overwhelming when she found herself in his arms.

"Martin, I can't... I can't talk about this," she shook her head and inhaled sharply, desperately trying to escape the conversation.

"Alright," he said quietly, admitting defeat once again. No matter how he tried to remind himself that getting close to Samantha once again was a dangerously bad idea, he somehow always found himself in this exact situation. Samantha would never open up to him, she would never allow him to comfort her or love her no matter how desperately he might want to. Samantha didn't need him in any sense of the word and she never would. Perhaps accepting this would be the first step in getting over her and finally admitting defeat.

Samantha stared up at him and found herself talking a step closer, her heart aching as she saw the hurt and quiet acceptance on his face. For the first time she wanted to tell him her fears, she had wanted to confide in him, yet the circumstances were too surreal and frightening to allow it.

A tiny flake of snow spiralled down from the sky, hovering in the air next to them before slowly descending to the earth where it disappeared into the concrete ground.

Sam stared up at the sky as snowflakes began to drift down from the clouds in the icy wind, the freezing particles landing on her cheeks.

Martin looked up to watch the beginning of the snow fall, finding Samantha staring at him silently as she wiped tears from her cheeks.

As the snow she had dreamt about slowly fell from the skies, Sam found herself once again contemplating the events of her nightmares and a sharp sudden pain struck her heart as she imagined losing the man she could only now admit she loved.

"Samantha," he said softly, watching her move closer until the tip of her nose was almost touching his. He had no idea what was happening, every thought in his head became redundant as he felt her hands grasp his tightly and seconds later her warm, soft lips were against his.

His hands slipped from hers and despite the warning sounding in his head, he wrapped her tightly in his arms and returned her kisses. Her lips tasted just as he remembered, just as he had craved since they had been apart. Yet the new found tenderness and softness in her kisses at once surprised and delighted him.

Her hand slid around the back of his neck as their lips momentarily parted only to be reunited once again and he felt her heart pounding against his as she pressed closer and closer.

Then in a split second she pulled away, her breathing ragged as she peered up uncertainly into his eyes and blinked in rapid confusion.

"I...I'm sorry," she shook her head, desperate not to see regret or anger on his face.

Martin swallowed hard and merely stared down at her, watching as she glanced self consciously at the window bank and then hurried inside to the bullpen.

"Sam, wait!" Martin walked after her, trying to catch up with her before they reached their colleagues.

He stopped dead in his tracks as Jack stood imposingly in front of him, a decidedly unimpressed and angry expression on his face as she licked his lips irritably and regarded the younger agent with a thoroughly disapproving glare.

"Is there something going on I should know about?" Jack demanded gruffly, casting a glance over at Sam who was now seated back at her desk and was rifling busily through a pile of papers in the hopes of avoiding his attention.

Martin caught her gaze and saw the desperation in her eyes, "No, there's nothing going on," he replied firmly.

Jack merely stared at him and nodded, his eyes betraying that he knew what had just occurred outside moments before. Martin returned the steady glare defiantly and then gestured over to his desk, "I should get back to work."

Samantha spent the rest of the day casting cautious glances over at Martin who pretended to remain oblivious to her attention and as the afternoon dragged slowly by and the snow continued to fall outside, not another word was spoken between them.


End file.
